


Handed Down and Made By Hand

by Vulgarweed



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, But They Live Together and That's What Counts, Gen, M/M, Much Unspoken, Poetry, Shakespearean Sonnets, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Unresolved Perhaps, Wits On Tap Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulgarweed/pseuds/Vulgarweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Wits On Tap Challenge - a slightly dysfunctional English sonnet for two slightly dysfunctional Englishmen. A poetic remix of the wonderful, atmospheric <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/932680">My Heart the Red Sun, Your Heart the Moon Clouded</a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/tiltedsyllogism/pseuds/tiltedsyllogism">tiltedsyllogism</a>.</p><p>Syl's story is a songfic inspired by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCSUfGJjwVY">Mystery</a> by the Indigo Girls, so I took my title from that song as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handed Down and Made By Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiltedsyllogism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiltedsyllogism/gifts).
  * Inspired by [My Heart The Red Sun, Your Heart The Moon Clouded](https://archiveofourown.org/works/932680) by [tiltedsyllogism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiltedsyllogism/pseuds/tiltedsyllogism). 



> All the thanks to [HiddenLacuna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenLacuna), who worked so very hard to save me from my meter errors (a fool's errand) and made it a MUCH better work. All the mistakes are certainly mine. Thanks also to everyone at AD for the cheerleading and support, as always, and to redscudery for organizing this amazing challenge every year.

In crept the autumn before we noticed it;  
I learned you wasted all our summer wine.  
The reddened leaves drape the porch where we sit,  
The sun sinks low and you become the evening’s shine.

I could have missed you in the night  
Like ships that pass and never meet nor hail;  
The buzz of flies upon the dead, while hope and bees take flight,  
Of hearts forlorn, caresses missed, and all life’s hopes gone stale.

Would it matter how I loved you, if there’d been none to see?  
If any eyes but yours could read the markings on my heart?  
I might not think myself seen at all, but for your gaze on me  
The other name upon the deed, a partner in your art.

“You would still be special without me,” you say, your voice so hard to read.  
In this cradling night, I bless the fact that there’s no need.


End file.
